A Lot of Coffee for the Soul
by for the pandas
Summary: An anthology/collection of little stories, drabbles, and oneshots concerning any of the characters from Gilmore Girls.  Most recent: Zack/Lane dialogue-fic.
1. Consequences: Rory, Jess

Collection with all sorts of dabbles and oneshots for all (or a lot of) characters in Gilmore Girls

Disclaimer: I don't own GG.

**[chapter] genre**: angst / drama  
**warnings**: **T**-ish  
**summary**: Teary-eyed at his doorstep, he takes her back, no questions asked.  
**main characters/pairing**: literati, hints of rogan  
**chapter**: consequences

There was a knock at his apartment door. "Tommy, get it, yeah?" he yelled, digging through the mess of his apartment for a shirt.

"Shut up, man!" his roommate replied in a seemingly threatening voice.

He heard the door open shortly after.

"Uhh, Jess, I think this one is for you."

Looking up, Jess tossed a generic white t-shirt on and walked to the door. Who would be here? He wasn't expecting anyone, after all…

"Jess?"

He was too accustomed to that voice. In fact, the way it was said had a certain familiarity, a sweetness that pulled on his heartstrings. The girl he hadn't seen since Philadelphia, when she claimed that she was in love with her jackass boyfriend…

He took in all of her, trying not to taste more than just a one-over, as too many emotions raged through him. Surprise, was, ironically and surprisingly, not the most prominent emotion. Happiness was a little too high up on the list for his liking; anxiety, nervousness, and anger were among the other contenders.

She looked like a mess. It's not that she didn't look beautiful; she would always be, at least to him. It was just that twinkle in her eyes that she had when she was, well, pleased, had faded, her hair was crumpled, whatever make-up she had on was botched, and she looked tired and small. She seemed to have tried to embrace a rock star style, wearing layered black tank tops with what appeared to him as some out-of-date black metal lyrics, dark denim leggings (whatever those were, don't even ask how he knew, jeggings, were they?), studded boots, a vest, and some form of black aviator glasses that rested lopsidedly on her head.

"Raging concert?" was the first stupid thing that he could muster up. He suddenly remembered how infamously uncharismatic he could be at times. He suddenly remembered that this was _Rory Gilmore_ in front of him, looking like she should have horns atop her head.

"Theme party…" she mumbled, before collapsing into his arms. He caught her swiftly, suddenly. Suddenly he remembered how good it was to feel her. Suddenly those feelings came back to toy with his heart.

"Huh."

She realized what she was doing. She took the sunglasses off, put them in her pocket, and looked down in shame. "You must think I'm an idiot, right?"

He wanted to tell her no, but suddenly his mouth wouldn't move. He shook his head slowly. God, that wouldn't convince her, would it?

"I think I should leave." She tried to wrangle herself out of his arms (as weakly as it seemed humanely possible), so it wasn't hard to stop her. He knew her. She wanted to stay.

"Don't. At least let us talk. You must be out here for some reason other than to see little old me, right?"

Helping her walk, he guided her to the pathetic little couch that sat in front of his pathetic little television. He had the urge to kiss her. He resisted, though. He wouldn't give up another chance to see her and watch her run out on such a foreign place to her.

They sat down, and then she whimpered. She put her head in her hands. "I just messed it up so bad…"

He put his hand on her back, frowning. "Messed up what?"

"My life. Everything!"

Jess was well-aware of the Gilmore tantrum, and wary of his words. "Start from the beginning…"

Sniffling, she started. "Well, I graduated. Logan proposed. I said no. That might have been stupid, but he wanted me to move to California! I didn't want to move to California. Then you know, naturally, I want to keep in touch, but it was an all or nothing type thing, apparently. I sent him letters, e-mails, little texts, but he didn't care. At least, I didn't think he did, until last week. He invited me down here; he said he would be here for one of his stupid little parties, and told me that it was this whole rocker theme, and you know me, right? Ready to jump in and look like an idiot. Well, I get there, and he's completely drunk, and then he tells me he hates me. Then he kisses me, and it's just…not what I wanted.

"He tried to pull the no-strings one-night thing with me! And here I was, feeling like an idiot, who wanted to be friends. He didn't want to be friends. He just wanted to get over me by being with me. I hate him. I don't hate him, per se, but I wasn't going to be sucked into his stupid casual-sex thing again. He is totally different. He didn't even ask me how I was. It was a whole 'I hate you, but let's do this' situation. I just can't deal with this now. I finally finished the Obama campaign trail, and I was hoping…I don't know what I was hoping for, actually. Friendship was maybe a little far-fetched. Or was it? I mean…never mind. I just gave you an earful and I'm being impolite. How are you?"

"Classy, aren't you, Rory? All that and you even manage to put a 'how are you' in there."

A little bit of sarcasm wouldn't hurt, would it? He pulled her in for a hug, and told her not to worry. 'Logan is a jackass, he was drunk, he didn't mean it, it's not your fault, it's just another stupid guy,' to sum up. But to her, he wasn't just another stupid guy, he had probably been her biggest love.

"Why do people like to leave me?" she asked, her blue eyes burning holes into him. Guilt. Was she guilting him? He felt that pang in his heart.

He knew she wasn't guilting him. In fact, that was probably the last thing she wanted to do. But who knows, maybe after the Logan process, she had turned into a minx. A minx and a vixen, who was trying to bait him into admitting that he still wanted her. A minx that wanted him, maybe. A minx who was very good at getting what she wanted.

But maybe she hadn't changed that much. She had gotten the Obama break, and she still seemed like a true-hearted aspiring goody-two-shoes journalist.

How did he have time to be thinking about this? A larger situation was looming here. He stopped for a second, before opening his mouth.

"People don't like to leave you, but they have to. They can't stay with you or else they'll never leave, and sometimes people have to leave. They have to go places, and love can't be prevented. Leaving is easier than admitting. Admitting fear, admitting desires, admitting love. Rory, nobody wants to leave you. They don't like it. They hate it. They know you like the little gestures as much as the big gestures, but you want both, don't you? You don't need a proposal; you just wanted reassurance that you could be with him. You didn't need me to do something sweet every month; you needed me to tell me that I loved you."

He knew he had hit it. She stared at him for what seemed like forever, but was really never. She closed her eyes, and told him the one thing that she knew would make it all better. He felt a hand tug on his shirt.

"Kiss me."

**a/n**: My first Gilmore Girls thing ever. I'm not very good at capturing the spirit of the characters, eh? Anyways, I know this wasn't really romance piece. I've had this recent obsession with PDLD and Rogan, so I'll be putting some of that up soon.


	2. Decisions: Lane, Zack

Disclaimer: I don't own GG.

**[chapter] genre**: general / romance  
**warnings**: **T**-ish  
**summary**: Lane and Zack fight over what CDs they're going to bring on their honeymoon and it leads to some awkwardness.  
**main characters/pairing**: lane/zack. I don't know what cutesy couple name they have.  
**chapter**: decisions  
**A/N**: I don't have the same musical taste as Lane and Zack do, so excuse my band references (I listen to everything and anything. Everything I put in this I basically like, so no hard feelings for any musical genre or band. Except the Kanye West cover thing. Yeah.). Sorry for the shortness. And the awkward mushy twist at the end.

Lane was in complete bliss for all of three hours after her wedding. She was a little drunk (figuratively, of course), but she was thinking completely straight. She was Lane Van Gerbig! It wasn't her dream name, but hey, it was a lot better than Lane Kim, which practically said 'Korean girl under house arrest.' She was in this seemingly perfect, endless bliss and then she went home to get her luggage with her _husband_! She was an adult. And she was going to admit it: they were going to be having sex within the next week, and possibly within the next 24 hours.

Oh, right. The bliss was gone when she looked in Zack's suitcase. "The Rentals? You're bringing two of their EPs and a Rivers Cuomo album and you won't let me bring any Weezer? I don't understand."

"Hey. I have to say, I enjoy Weezer when they're not together, babe. Be happy I'm not bringing my Uncle Jim's bluegrass CD," Zack replied, trying to give her a hug.

"Um, no! If you don't let me bring my psychedelic folk _or_ Weezer, then I revoke your 'prog rock' pass! No for you. Nobody knows what that even means!" Lane threw her hands up in the air, rejecting his hug.

"Well, the last straw was when you tried to bring covers of Kanye West. I'm sorry, but if it's not even real rap, then what is it supposed to be?" Zack walked over to the corner of the room to think. "You know what, Lane? I'm not fighting with you on our _wedding day_. We're supposed to be like, doing it, you know?"

Lane stopped glaring at him from across the room and softened her gaze. "I guess," she smiled. "I mean, we're married now. We shouldn't be fighting about this. We're supposed to be fighting about stupid adult stuff, like cars and taxes."

"Yeah. And babies and stuff," Zack added, out of nowhere. It came out of his mouth before he knew it. Maybe he was ready for more adult things than he knew.

"I don't know if we should make a baby yet, Zack," Lane replied, hoping it didn't sound cold. "I mean, I don't know if we're ready to have a baby."

It was just so cute that he was thinking about their little imaginary babies. What would he name them? Hopefully nothing stupid like Jedi or Rock. Oh God. And he'd probably name a girl that.

"Oh, yeah, no! I didn't mean that, babe. I just meant that like, adults talk about babies a lot. Yeah," he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He didn't really know how not to act like an idiot sometimes. "I'll be more appropriate from now on."

Lane giggled. It sounded like Mrs. Kim had been giving Zack lessons in sincerity. "You know, you're not at my mom's house. You can say things like doing it and babies and we'll be in the clear. In fact, I think Mama wants us to have kids. As many half-Koreans as possible. That way at least one of them can fulfill her dream to have an Asian kid who naturally desires Bible camp and seven years of repetitive science."

"Maybe they'll play a geeky instrument, like trombone," Zack added, walking back towards her.

Once he got close enough to her, Lane hit his shoulder. "_I_ played a 'geek' instrument," she said, making the over exaggerated air quotes. "I was in the Stars Hollow High Marching Band, remember? It was my close call to brass fame. It's too bad Hep Alien snatched me up. I could've been big, you know."

"You could've been anything you wanted to," he said, knowing it was just as cheesy as it sounded in his mind out loud. He had to perfect the moment by plucking her hand off his shoulder and clasping it between his two very own. "You're my wife. You're the lady I'm going to spend the rest of my life with."

"The lady?" Lane pouted. "I'm sorry, that sounds too trampy. And ambiguous. Like, that lady. That lady could be anybody. Lady sounds like prostitute."

"Okay, how many times do I have to say it even after Rory told you? Lady wasn't the tramp in that movie. It was Lady _and_ the Tramp. Hey, you know what? I can be the tramp, if it makes you happy."

"I don't want you to be a tramp! Those groupies'll be all over you in a second; you know that. Just show them your pearly whites and say in that gruff voice you can make, 'Hey, you feminine things, you! Want to come to my bunk bed for some juice and pita bread?'" she imitated his voice.

"Noo. It's, 'Hey, wanna come to my _place_ for some _beer_?'" he argued, without thinking. What was he arguing about?

"No. It's not just _your_ place. I hereby banish the only spot in this apartment that is yours to be the bunk bed. And we don't have any beer. You know it makes Brian queasy. We mostly just have his favorite because he had a cold last week."

"Hey. That dude is always sick. We don't have to help him," Zack said, as he pulled her in for a hug. Thinking of Brian kind of sucked the romance out of his system. Yuck.

a"Well, you know, he is kind of like," she buried her head into his chest, "our practice child." She looked back up, nervously. "You know, if you're kind of _maybe_ thinking about having kids in the somewhat near future. You know. Maybe."

"Yeah. Definitely. You know, soonish. Not now, of course, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Not now. Soon. Now's too soon?" she asked, but she didn't want an answer. He got that.

He leaned into her so their mouths were barely touching but just enough for her to want more. She grabbed his suit jacket collar with force and let him loosen her lips. His kisses, were hers, and just hers. The intensity was something she had never felt before. And oh God, she thought, how good would _he_ be at sex if this was what one kiss did to her? She decided it didn't matter. He was almost too sweet with her.

He decided that he liked having her in his arms, especially after a fight. He didn't believe in any of the hot make-up stuff after a fight because (a), he'd never had sex with Lane, and (b), any of the things that had existed in his previous relationships were null with his wife, and his only love. Lane was the only girl that he had ever dated and fell in love with. He had loved other girls like friends, but never had he fell quite so hard for somebody who he had never even considered until she proposed that she liked him and that _maybe_, if he'd like, they should date. Then he rethought everything he had ever known and realized that he had liked her all along. When she was secretly with Dave, when she was learning to be a real drummer, and when they fought like this.

They didn't need any answers.


End file.
